Lonely Spirit: Freeing Spirit
by Unstable Firestarter
Summary: Renovated! Spirit is always depressed because of her mother. She just wishes she could have a new life, forget her past, be happy. With the help of a new friend, that wish could come true, but can Spirit deal with the consequences? Paul/OC.
1. Not Alone

**Lonely Spirit: Freeing Spirit**

Summary: Spirit is always depressed because of her mother. She just wishes she could have a new life, forget her past, be happy. With the help of a new friend, that wish could come true, but can Spirit deal with the consequences?

Reviews: definitely!

Disclaimer: Lost Boys characters belong to the WB, Spirit is mine.

Dedication: to my mother, for never treating me the way Susan does Spirit, and to my dad, for always trying to understand me.

Notes: This story takes place before Star and Laddie.

* * *

**Part One: Not Alone **

Santa Carla is a quiet, seaside town by day and evil's playground by night. Unfortunately, all who meet up with this evil end up on a 'missing' poster. The people of this Californian town are completely oblivious to what's really going on around them. The only two people who ever really knew are dead. Most people in Santa Carla are happy, most except one. Spirit Hannagin kept her head bowed as she shuffled along behind her mother, who was raving about how useless Spirit was.

"…Almost eighteen and what help do I get from you? Worthless child." Susan snapped in a bitter tone.

Spirit kept staring down at the ground, the sun beating down on her back, her flaming red hair forming a curtain around her face. She wished her mother would just stop ranting. She never knew why Susan was always so bitter and angry; she had been that way for as long as Spirit could remember. The seventeen year old always got the feeling that she was the reason why her mother was so bitter. Things shouldn't be this way! She was a spirited teenage girl, which is where she got her nickname, she should be having fun! Not hunched over in a pose of submission as her mother yelled at her.

But Spirit hardly could remember what the word 'fun' meant. She could tolerate her mother yelling at her, yeah, it got her down, but the hurt wasn't physical. It was when Susan got drunk, that things got worse. Most kids don't know what a 'beating' really is. Spirit is not so lucky. She had been bruised before, and still had scars, a memory of the past. The most noticeable scar was the one that ran diagonally down the side of her neck from the time her mother had thrown a dish at her. The dish hadn't hit Spirit, but it had shattered on the wall and a shard had flown wild. It hadn't cut deep, but scared nonetheless. Susan fell silent for a moment as she studied something in a storefront window. Grateful for the silence, Spirit looked up for a moment. Her lapis lazuli eyes traveled over the streets. Happy people were everywhere, but unfortunately, none of that cheerfulness reached Spirit and her mother.

"Come on," Susan snapped, continuing on again.

"Yes mother," Spirit mumbled, bowing her head once more as she walked behind her mother.

Night fell on Santa Carla, and the evil emerged; ready to add to the every growing number of 'missing' posters. At the Boardwalk, Spirit walked slowly behind her mother once more with her head bowed again. She wasn't shuffling her feet as much as earlier though. For the moment, she was ignoring her mother, who, as usual, was going on and on about something. Spirit tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him. She stopped walking. Slowly, she turned her head: he had blonde hair and dark eyes. Spirit hardly noticed that he was with a group of bikers, all of whom appeared to be in their early twenties, because as her gaze met his, the world could have ended and she wouldn't have noticed.

Suddenly, some one was shaking her roughly and she turned to see who it was.

"Have you been listening to me?" Susan hissed.

Before bowing her head again, Spirit glanced over at the blonde biker. Her mother followed her gaze.

"Boys," Susan snapped, "All you ever think about is boys. Well, you can stare all you want, you're staying here, I have things to do."

As her mother walked away, Spirit could feel her face growing hot and knew she was blushing. She had a feeling the bikers had heard her mother's words, because they were now snickering. Blushing more, Spirit turned to walk into the crowd. But when she stepped forward, she tripped. And as she fell, she realized that some one had purposely tripped her. Spirit fell flat on her face with a cry that was more from pain then surprise. Wincing, she sat up and rubbed her head where she had hit. She felt a little dizzy. Who would trip her on purpose? Some punk, probably. All of a sudden, she realized that some one was holding out their hand to her. With raised eyebrows, Spirit took the hand and allowed herself to be pulled gently to her feet. Assistance? Obviously there was still some one nice in this town.

"Thank you," Spirit said in her quiet voice as she looked up to see who had helped her. She was surprised to see that it was the blonde biker.

"Don't mention it," he said, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Spirit said, head still bowed slightly.

"I'm Paul," he said.

"Spirit," the girl said after a moment's hesitation.

"Haven't seen you 'round here before," Paul said.

"I usually don't come to the Boardwalk," Spirit said softly, "My mother," She added in an explaining tone, nodding toward the crowd where Susan had disappeared. For a second, neither of them said anything, but Spirit was wracking her brain for something to say.

"Spirit," Paul repeated thoughtfully, "That's pretty."

"It's a nickname," Spirit said, smiling shyly at the complement.

"Want to go for a ride?" Paul asked.

"Well." Spirit hesitated as her eyes scanned the crowd. Her heart sank when she saw Susan coming towards them. Back so soon? "I can't," she said, "Another time?" she added in a hopeful tone.

"Sure," Paul said.

A moment later, Spirit was following her mother through the crowd. Her shoulders were hunched and she was shuffling her feet, but her head was barely bowed, as though she had been given a bit of confidence. Susan was raving about something (again) and how it was oddly Spirit's fault she didn't find what she was looking for.

* * *

At home, Spirit went up to her room and closed the door behind her. Without bothering to turn on the light, the redhead collapsed on her bed. She closed her eyes, her mother's angry voice still ringing in her ears, and bit back a sob. Sometime during the next few minutes, hours maybe, sleep snuck up on her. Spirit drifted to sleep, her fiery red hair spread across the pillow, her breathing became calm and steady. This was the only time she was at peace, and even then, she sometimes had nightmares of previous events.

The next morning, Spirit awoke to hear Susan banging around in the kitchen. Yawning, Spirit sat up in bed. She stretched and subconsciously ran her hand over the scar on her neck. She brushed her hair out of her face and slid out of bed. She got dressed and brushed her teeth. She headed downstairs and was greeted by a scowl from Susan. Spirit took a bowl down from the cabinet and set to work preparing herself breakfast. Susan scurried about the kitchen, surprising cheery, as she took out pots and pans.

"I'm having company over tonight," Susan said, the bitterness momentarily gone from her voice.

Spirit raised her eyebrows, company?

"When you go out today you can out until midnight," Susan said, causing Spirit's already raised eyebrows to shoot up even higher, "But don't come home anytime in the evening until after nine," Susan's eyes darkened, "If you come home late, even a minute after midnight, you're grounded for a week," she said in a threatened tone, "Understand?"

Spirit nodded quickly, and Susan, satisfied with her daughter's answer, turned back to preparing dinner for that evening. Even though she was curious, Spirit didn't dare who Susan was having over for dinner. After breakfast, Spirit hung around the house, unsure of what to do with her free time. But when morning turned into afternoon, and Susan became more agitated, often glaring at Spirit, the teenager decided to go out finally. Before she did so though, she brushed her soft red hair until it shone.

Nervously, she slipped out the front door, grateful to be away from her mother. Spirit walked along, always looking down because she was too shy to look anyone in the eye. And that seemed to make her a bully magnet. Sure, pick on the shy kids because they won't stand up for themselves. Because now, that she was away from her tough as nails mother, Spirit could feel the punks and bullies leering at her. Could sense them gathering behind her as they planned to do something mean. Spirit quickened her pace, which one wouldn't have thought easy, not in the platforms she was wearing, but she was perfectly balanced.

And then it happened. Spirit barely had time to blink, let alone react, before she was falling. Someone had tripped her again. She landed hard on her hands and knees on the pavement. She felt the painful vibrations run up and down her arms and legs. Her red hair fell in her face. Adding insult to injury, she heard someone shout, "Nice going dead beat!" Spirit ignored the teenagers' cruel remarks as she climbed to her feet. She cursed softly when she saw the tear in the knee of her jeans. Her mother would kill her. Spirit's legs still felt a little numb as she walked on, pushing her way through the crowd of jeering teenagers.

Someone shoved her roughly and she stumbled. She fought back her tears as she broke into a run, almost twisting her ankle more then once. The sun was dipping below the horizon before Spirit finally stopped running. She had left the crowd of punks behind. Looking around Spirit saw she had ended up at the Boardwalk, which she didn't mind because she was planning on going there anyway. Taking a deep breath, she tried not to be subconscious about the rip in her jeans, which actually seemed to be a fashion statement with teens, and headed through the crowd. She just wanted to be away from people for a while, even if it was only for a few minutes, so she headed for the gigantic Ferris wheel.

After waiting through a short line, she sat down in an empty compartment. Spirit knew it would be a few minutes before she reached the top, with people getting on and off. A shadow fell across her and she opened her mouth to tell whoever it was that the whole compartment was occupied, but another voice spoke up before she could say anything.

"Is this seat taken?"

Wait a minute, that voice was familiar. Curious, Spirit looked up. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Paul," Spirit said in a shy tone, "Oh, not at all, it's just me," She scooted over to make room. After a moment, the two of them were on their way up.

"What brings you back to the Boardwalk?" Paul asked.

"My mother granted me free leave from the prison she calls 'home'," Spirit replied. A moment of, seemingly, understanding silence passed.

"And you decided to come here?" Paul said.

Spirit blushed slightly; she didn't want to tell him that she had been secretly hoping to see him again. "This is pretty much the coolest place in Santa Carla," she said instead. By now, they were almost halfway to the top.

"Ain't that true," Paul said.

"What about you," Spirit asked, "Do you come to the Boardwalk often?"

"Almost every night," Paul replied.

Nodding, Spirit thought a moment. "How long have you lived in Santa Carla?" She said at last.

"I've lost track of the years," Paul replied after a minute.

"Hm, that long, and we've never met before this?" Spirit said with a shy smile, turning slightly towards him, "If I had known what I was missing, I would have ditched my mother and come to the Boardwalk sooner."

As Paul realized that Spirit was flirting with him, the girl looked up at the stars above them. As her red hair slid back over her shoulders, Paul glimpsed a scar along her neck before he too looked up.

"Oh, wow," Spirit breathed, the stars were bright and seemed so close, you could reach out and touch them. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a star up in the night sky?" She whispered.

"What?" Paul asked, looking over at her.

"Huh? Oh, nothing, I've just always had a fascination with the stars," Spirit replied, her blue eyes twinkling like the heavenly bodies above them. She continued to stare up at the stars until their compartment started moving again, and then she turned her gaze to Paul. They talked the whole time until they were once more standing on the Boardwalk.

"How about that ride I promised you?" Paul suggested.

Spirit's eyes lit up, "That'd be great," she said with a smile, that, for once, held none of her shyness.

Several hours later, Spirit stood on her front porch, saying goodbye to Paul. She watched him disappear down the street, then glanced down at her watch, which read eleven thirty-five. Quietly, Spirit opened the front door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. She turned, and found herself face-to-face with Susan.


	2. A True Friend

**Part Two: A True Friend**

"Where have you been?" Susan demanded, furious, "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Spirit glanced over at the hall clock. One a.m. One a.m.? Her watch must have stopped. What seemed like hours later, but was only minutes, she collapsed on her bed. Not only had Susan yelled at her, but she had also grounded her. She hadn't even tried to point out that her watch stopped, her mother would have just yelled at her for that too.

She fought back her tears as she hugged her pillow. She could hear Susan, who seemed to have called her father. Dad. He was away on a business trip. The redhead just lay there for some time as she listened to her mother shouting. She couldn't understand Susan, her voice was muffled by Spirit's closed door, but she could pretty much guess that her mother was going on and on about how irresponsible she was. A while later, sleep finally over came her.

The next morning, when Spirit went downstairs, she could sense the tension in the air. Susan refused to look at her, or speak to her. She didn't even acknowledge her daughter's presence in the room. After breakfast, Spirit went back up to her room and stayed there the entire day. Sometime around evening, Susan went out and then came back about thirty minutes later. All of a sudden, there was a crash from downstairs, causing Spirit to jump. For a moment, the redhead stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do, her heart hammering in her chest, then she headed downstairs to see what had happened.

"Mother?" Spirit called nervously. There was no response. She saw that the TV was on in the living room.

As she stood frozen in the doorway, she froze. She sensed trouble and she knew why; Susan was drunk. The crash was a lamp that had tumbled to the floor. Before the night was even half over, more shouts and crashes echoed from the Hannagin House. Then, a little past midnight, a battered figure fled from the house. Spirit ran, her red hair streaming out behind her. At last, she came to the beach, the sand cool beneath her bare feet. The redhead sank to a kneeling position before the waves. She wrapped her arms around herself and could no longer hold her tears at bay.

Her body shook with the power of her sobs. Her tears, silvery and pure, were full of pain as they dropped to the damp sand. Spirit rocked gently back and forth. Behind her, laughter echoed from the crowded Boardwalk, further up the beach, a group of teenagers had lit a bonfire, and Spirit was by herself. She had never felt more alone. She didn't hear the shadowed figure approach her from behind, didn't hear anything but her own sobs.

"Spirit?" Paul asked, turning her name into a question as he hesitantly put a hand on the redhead's shoulder.

Spirit trembled at his touch, then seemed to realize who had spoken to her, because she slightly turned her tear stained face towards him, though she did not say a word. She rose to her feet and turned to face Paul. It appeared to be a great effort for her to pry her arms from her body. And for a moment, she hesitated, as if unsure of what to do, though she was still crying silently. It seemed her body decided for her, and she wrapped her arms around Paul, who seemed surprised at her actions. Then, slowly, he slipped his arms around Spirit and held her bruised body gently, as though she could break at any minute.

Spirit laid her head against Paul's chest, sobs still wracking her body. She was beginning to calm down a little though. She didn't know how long she stood in Paul's arms, but at last, her tears began to stop and she took a deep, shuddering, breath. Spirit was trembling, and she was tired, but she could cry no more. She pulled away slightly, so she could look up at Paul, who ran his hand lightly over a welt on her face.

"Who did this to you?" he asked quietly.

Spirit looked away as she whispered the words, "My mother," Paul stiffened as she continued, "It's never been this bad before.but, tonight she." Spirit hesitated, "She got drunk. She was still mad about...last night and." she didn't finish.

"She beat you?" Paul said angrily.

Tears once more welling in her eyes, Spirit could only nod. She leaned against Paul again, and for a while, neither of them said anything. Paul ran his fingers through Spirit's hair as the redhead's breathing became more normal.

"Do you know someplace where I can stay the night?" Spirit asked in a whisper, breaking the silence, "I don't want to go home, I'm...afraid," The last word was barely audible. It ached deep in her chest to say that word. You should never be afraid to go home, should never be afraid of your own mother.

Paul was silent for a moment as he thought. "I know a place," he said slowly, as if unsure, "It may not be the greatest."

"Oh, I'm sure it's just fine," Spirit said in a tired voice.

"You're right," Paul said with a smile.

There was another long moment of silence during which Spirit's heart rate returned to normal, though she was still trembling.

"Ready?" Paul asked.

Spirit nodded, allowing her arms to fall lightly to her sides, and fighting herself to keep them there. They began to walk up the beach, side-by-side. Spirit sighed contently, Paul's arm around her waist made her feel safe, secure, as if her entire life, she had been on the edge of floating away and now she had found her anchor at long last. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're my only friend, one of the few people to actually be nice to me," Spirit said in her quiet voice, "It seems everybody hates me," she sniffled, "Everybody's mean to me."

"They're just jealous," Paul said, "You're beautiful-" Spirit blushed a deep pink at this "-You 'seem' to have a perfect life. They're just jealous of what they don't have."

"If only they knew how rotten my life is," Spirit sighed, "They wouldn't be so jealous of me."

"They'd find some reason to torment you; bullies and punks are like that." Paul said.

Spirit's eyes slipped half closed as she spoke, "I just…don't understand...how people can be…so mean," her voice gave away how tired she was.

For a while, they walked in silence. They were back on the Boardwalk, but headed for a darker, more deserted, section. Spirit could see movement in the shadows and every so often, the glint of the lights off of something metal would catch her eye. As they grew closer, and Spirit's eyes adjusted to the darkness ahead, she could see into the shadows. The redhead blinked a few time because her vision was growing a bit blurry from her tiredness.

Ahead of them were the other three bikers she had seen Paul with. Paul tightened his arm around Spirit's waist, drawing her closer to him. Spirit was glad she was with Paul; she really didn't want to go home yet. One good thing about being tired though; she wasn't nervous meeting new people. Anyway, she figured, why be nervous around Paul's friends? As introductions were made, Spirit tried to fix each name and face in her tired mind; Dwayne, who had dark hair and a serious expression; Marko, who had curly, golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes; and last, but defiantly not least, was David. He had haunting sky blue eyes and spiky white-blonde hair.

The next minutes, Spirit didn't know how long, were a blur to her tired mind, everything melded together: she remembered climbing onto the back of Paul's motorbike, remembered the wind in her face as they took off, leaving the Boardwalk behind. Spirit remembered…actually not much of the ride to…where ever they were going. She remembered gazing upon a vast cliff, remembered being led down wooden steps. She heard the crash of the ocean, and smelled the sea air. The last thing Spirit remembered was laughter and the sound of voices, the sensation of floating as she was lifted off her feet, and then…nothing.

Paul carried Spirit into the cave. She had fallen asleep before she even got to see it or hear the history of his home. He gently laid her down in what had been Star's bed, and Spirit mumbled in her sleep, something about the ocean and the cliff. As Paul stepped back, Spirit sighed softly and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Spirit slept all through the night and into the day as well, as peaceful and content as she had ever been. The redhead half awoke once, around the afternoon, but drifted right back to sleep. As the sun was beginning it's decent below the horizon, Spirit stirred from her sleep.

But she didn't want to wake up; she had been dreaming of Paul. Her dream was incomplete and she wanted to finish it. She smiled at the thought. At last, Spirit pried her eyes open, expecting to see the four plain walls of her bedroom. But that wasn't what met her eyes. And slowly, memories of the previous night came flooding back into her mind. She moaned and covered her face with her hands. What made her heart skip a beat was the fact that she truthfully had no idea where she was. Cave…in some cliff...but where? The Lost Cave. She sat up and looked around. Her eyes scanned the Cave, and her eyebrows rose in amazement; the Cave was huge. In the middle of the 'main chamber' was an ancient looking stone fountain. Candles were scattered about the edge.

The redhead stood up, still looking around herself. After a few minutes, she wandered to the mouth of the Cave and stepped out. Spirit sat on the cliff as she watched the sun set. The waves glimmered and danced below her as the breeze played with her hair. She wrapped her arms around her legs and stared out to sea, the sun reflecting in her blue eyes. She sat, wondering and waiting, as the sun dipped below the horizon and night fell once more. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"There you are," said a voice from behind her.

Spirit opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder. "Paul," She said softly, standing and turning to face him.

"How do you feel?" Paul asked.

Spirit shrugged, then winced, "Better," She said, "Better then last night," She absentmindedly ran her hand over the scar on her neck as she spoke.

There was a moment of silence, during which, Paul's gaze traveled from the welt on Spirit's face, to her arms, which were blue-black from bruises. "Want a ride to back Boardwalk?" Paul asked at last.

Spirit nodded, "That'd be nice," she said softly, not wanting to admit her nervousness about not knowing where she was.

The ride to the Boardwalk was…wonderful. High speed through the woods, down some path unknown to her. And this was Spirit's first taste of the carefree life, what got her heart racing and her soul craving the thrill. But all too soon, they reached the Boardwalk. Spirit wanted to stay there, spend some time with Paul, but he said he had to leave. Spirit watched sadly as the four of them vanished into the night, then she slowly turned and wove her way through the crowd. She was dreading going home, dreading what her mother's reaction would be.

Susan would defiantly be mad, that Spirit was sure of. She tried to postpone going home for as long as she could. In fact, she stayed at the Boardwalk until closing time. Slowly, her heart pounding, Spirit walked towards home. The streets were dark and deserted. It was too quiet. She shivered. She looked up at the stars, which were shining bright, despite the full moon. Spirit's wandered from the stars, to the moon, and for just a moment, she wondered if werewolves existed. Shaking her head, she glanced up and down the street. The crickets were oddly quiet. Every now and then, a night bird would call. Spirit locked her eyes on one star, and made a wish. She paused, trying to pick out a few constellations. She sighed. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like, to be a star.

Spirit sighed again, tears glittering in her eyes; she didn't want to go home, didn't want to face her mother, who would no doubt be furious. What she wanted was to stay with Paul forever. He made her feel safe, made her feel…complete. She sniffled, fighting back her tears.

"You lost?" asked a voice, causing Spirit to yelp and jump.

The redhead peered into the shadows, was some one there? All of a sudden, she saw movement in the shadows, and a pair of eyes…yellow eyes! Her own eyes widened in surprise, and she began to run. There were no street lamps on this road, and the only light she had was from the moon.

Spirit ran. She had no idea if she was being chased, but she didn't care, didn't want to know. She thought she heard laughter from behind her, but she wasn't sure; she might have just imagined it.

The redhead ran, almost falling once. She stumbled on a rock in the darkness. At last, Spirit stopped. She leaned against a tree to catch her breath. Her heart was still pounding as she looked around. She didn't see anyone, but she was still a little edgy. She looked up and saw that she was in front of her house. She was home, yet alone. Spirit slipped through her front door, closing it silently behind her. She peeked into the living room and the kitchen as she passed by them; both were empty, which meant Susan must be asleep in bed. The redhead crept upstairs and snuck into her room. She closed her door after herself and got changed. Before she got into bed, Spirit looked out her window as if she expected to see those inhuman yellow eyes again. She shuddered at the thought and was glad she saw nothing but blackness. She slid into bed and tried to get to sleep.


	3. The Greatest Gift

**Part Three: The Greatest Gift**

Spirit awoke early in the morning. She blinked in the cheery sunlight. The redhead got out of bed and got dressed as quietly as she could. She kept her door closed, hoping that Susan was still asleep. She opened her window, allowing the warm summer air to cause the curtains to flutter as it flowed in. Spirit frowned, something didn't feel right. She could almost see the tension in the air. She thought of going out, to avoid Susan, but that would just make her mother madder. Spirit was just making her bed when her bedroom door banged open. She froze.

"You have the nerve to come back," Susan snarled, "Thought you ran off with that biker creep."

Spirit felt her anger bubble up, and she opened her mouth to disagree with her mother, when Susan backhanded her hard enough that Spirit staggered. Her anger was instantly replaced by fear, fear of her own mother.

"I take care of you, make sure you have clothes on your back and food on your plate for seventeen-no, eighteen years now, and you just run off?" Susan said, eyes dark, "Get out. Get out of my house this instant."

A moment later, Spirit stumbled out the front door. She was in tears; how could her own mother kick her out? She had no where to go. Spirit began to walk aimlessly down the street. After a while, she heard laughter from behind her. Wiping away her tears, she looked back over her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. No, not now. A group of teenagers had gathered a few yards behind her. They were the same punks who had bothered her three days previous. Spirit's mind raced; first kicked out of her own home, now pursued by bullies. She hurried to lose herself in the crowd of shoppers ahead. She weaved her way through, then paused to pick a new direction. All of a sudden, she received a hard shove. She almost fell, but regained her balance.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" she cried. Mean laughter was the only response.

She broke into a run, dodging this obstacle and that. Around noon, the bullies grew bored with their game of cat and mouse, and then went off to terrorize some other unsuspecting teenager. Spirit eventually came to a sidewalk Café. She sat down at an unoccupied table and lost herself in thought. A waiter came by and the redhead ordered a cup of tea. When the waiter was gone, Spirit dissolved into tears. She seemed to be crying a lot lately. She cried and cried, letting out all of her pent up emotions.

"Are you alright, Miss?" the waiter asked when he returned with Spirit's tea.

Spirit fought back her tears and nodded, "It's just, I broke up with my boyfriend and." she lied.

The waiter nodded, handed her her tea, and hurried off. Perhaps he hadn't wanted her going all mushy on him. Well; it was one way to get rid of some one really fast. The redhead sipped her tea as she tried to think of what she was going to do next. And she tried not to cry again. Spirit looked around every once in a while to ensure those bullies weren't trying to sneak up on her. Two hours ticked by while Spirit sat at that Café; she just didn't have the strength to get up. Where was she going to go anyway? Was she just going to continue wandering about Santa Carla, with no place to call home? Another twenty minutes passed by. The waiter kept giving her suspicious looks, like he was asking her if she was gonna move in or something. At last, around three thirty, Spirit dug enough change out of her pockets to pay for her tea, and slowly left the Café.

The sun began to ride lower in the sky as Spirit slowly made her way towards the pier. The sound of the ocean would calm her and clear her mind. The redhead leaned on the rail as she stared out at sea. Tears slipped down her face and fell into the ocean below. The sun sank lower and finally vanished. Spirit sniffled, trying to stop crying, but it was so hard. Night was upon her and she had no where to stay. She took a deep breath, heart beating fast from crying. Why was her life so miserable? She couldn't imagine anyone being jealous of her. The redhead turned to leave the pier, to go to the beach, and walked smack into Paul.

"Sorry," she mumbled before she could stop herself. For a second, neither of them said anything.

The two of them had begun walking down the pier, both were silent. Spirit was grateful for the silence; Paul was letting her talk when she was ready. The redhead took a deep breath.

"Had another fight with my mother," she hesitated, let the silence grow a little, "D-don't have a h-home." she had wanted to say more, but her throat had become tight. She fought down her tears and emotions as Paul held her in his arms.

At last, Spirit took a shuddering deep breath, and pulled away slowly. They began walking again, and a few minutes later, they reached the beach.

"You know," Spirit said, "There are times-lots of times-that I wish I could just forget my past." She stood in Paul's arms; the two of them were on the beach. The normally soothing sound of the waves only made the redhead sadder.

"I wish I could just have a new life," she continued, "With out Susan to...to beat me up, or make my life miserable." her voice became choked with tears and she paused so she could catch her breath.

"I just wish I could be happy," she whispered, "Is that to much to ask for?" There was a long moment of silence.

"Your wish can come true," Paul said.

"What?" Spirit looked up at him.

"There's a way that we can be together forever," Paul continued, "And you wouldn't have to worry about you're mother hurting you anymore." He let the silence grow. "And all you have to do, is say yes," he finished.

"If only it were that easy. If there is a way, for that to be possible, than yes," Spirit said slowly.

Paul held Spirit's hands and looked into her beautiful blue eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Spirit swayed slightly, like she was in a trance, because she was. She frowned a little, puzzled, "Yes, I'm sure," she whispered.

"Close your eyes," Paul said to her.

Spirit gazed up at him for a moment longer, then did as Paul asked her to. He kissed her, and Spirit trembled slightly, but did not open her eyes. He kissed her neck, then paused. He felt his face change, forehead become ridged, eyes turn yellow, and fangs grow. Not wanting to hurt Spirit, he carefully slipped his fangs into her throat. Spirit remembered Paul kissing her, then a dim burning sensation that wasn't unpleasant, and she slipped away. Later, minutes, hours, she didn't know, she became aware of the world. She could hear the sound of the surf and the faint music and laughter from the Boardwalk. She could smell the salty air, could smell burning wood; there was a bonfire somewhere. Had she passed out? What had happened? She opened her eyes.

"How do you feel?" Paul asked.

Spirit looked over and saw him next to her. "Alright, I guess," she said, sitting up. She felt more then okay, she felt…more aware of her surroundings. "What happened?"

"There's something I have to tell you," Paul said as he helped Spirit stand.

"What is it?" Spirit asked, brushing sand off her clothes.

"I'm a vampire," Paul said after a minute.

Spirit frowned, "What are you talking about?" she wondered in a disbelieving tone.

"And now you are too," Paul continued, "Your wish, you can have a new life, be happy. You're immortal."

"Paul…what…?" Spirit stammered, alarmed. But she could feel…instincts, and knowledge she had never had before surfacing within her. What was happening? Suddenly, the fear became overwhelming, and she ran.

"Spirit! Wait!" Paul called, but he didn't go after her because he didn't want to scare her. He had hoped she wouldn't be afraid, because she didn't understand.

Spirit ran as hard as she could, nearly in tears. Vampire? Impossible! She stopped running when she was far away from Paul. She was trembling, and there was an ache in her chest. But what bothered her most, was that she could feel something, like a second mind, surfacing within her own. It was a dark, savage mind, the mind of a killer, the mind of a vampire. She had to wonder; did all vampires feel these savage instincts? Did they all feel this dark mind, or did they become one with it, except it? She had always heard about vampires in myths being evil. Paul...it was nearly impossible to imagine him as being evil.

The new mind that she felt opened and she was overwhelmed with thoughts that were not her own. She gasped, but was already lost in these new thoughts. Her senses seemed to be sharper as she gazed around. A little ways down the beach, Spirit saw a teenage boy off by himself. She was dimly aware that her face had changed and that the new thoughts were controlling her. As she darted across the beach, a voice in the back of her head, her own voice, screamed at her, 'What are you doing? Snap out of it Girl!' But the voice faded quickly and the craving for...blood took over.

She couldn't stop herself as she came up behind the teenager. She yanked his head to the side and sank her fangs into his neck. She had struck so suddenly, he didn't even have time to shout. She began to drink his blood and did not stop until he was dead.

In that moment, whether she knew it or not, she had become a full vampire. And then she found herself. Spirit released the teenager and fell to her hands and knees on the sand. "Oh, god," she whispered; what had she done? What had she become? Feeling dizzy, she scrambled to her feet and ran, not able to hold back her tears anymore. She ran, tears streaming down her face, and she didn't stop until she reached a secluded section of the beach, where she could be alone. She stood facing the ocean as she cried silently. She heard-or was it that she sensed him?-Paul approaching her. How she knew it was him...she wasn't sure, but she also wasn't human anymore.

The thought hit her hard as she whimpered. She could tell that Paul had stopped a few feet away from her. Somehow, she knew that he was tense, and worried about her. But she was confused. Spirit turned to him and her expression broke his heart; she looked so confused, lost, frightened…but not angry. The redhead trembled and would have fallen if Paul hadn't caught her. He held her tight in his arms as tears streamed down her face.

"I-I can't believe I…k-k-killed some one," Spirit said in a bitter tone; she was angry at herself, "I j-just couldn't s-stop myself," her voice was choked with tears.

"It's not your fault," Paul said softly, "Don't blame yourself; all new vampires get caught up in the emotions and...the instincts. You weren't prepared, you didn't know."

Spirit looked up at him, fear in her eyes, fear of herself, "I liked it," she whispered in a wavering voice, "When I k-killed, I l-liked it, and it- it scares me," Tears spilled forth again and her voice was cut off.

* * *

Spirit waited anxiously for the sun to go down. Again, she looked around the Cave in an almost nervous way. She wanted to leave before the others woke up, wanted to avoid them for a while, so she could sort out what was happening to her. She listened to the crashing waves as she waited, not even wanting to really call the Cave 'home' yet. She...may be a vampire, but she wasn't one of them yet. Hadn't 'joined', and no one had mentioned it the previous night when she had arrived at the Cave with Paul. She had been upset, and they had known it.

Looking up, she saw that the last rays of the sun had vanished. She hurried out of the Cave and made her way up the wooden steps. She traveled to the Boardwalk on foot. She could have flown, but she didn't quite like the idea of being a vampire, and she certainly didn't want to use her 'powers'. She knew that in the time it took for her to get to the Boardwalk, the others could have woken up and been there before her, but she didn't care. The redhead reached the Boardwalk, and for once, didn't welcome the lights and music she was now familiar with.

She left the crowds behind, and went instead, to a darker, practically deserted part of the Boardwalk. Right now, she didn't want to be close to people. And she was trying to avoid the others-even Paul-for the moment; she just wanted to sort things out, she was so confused. She felt that she really didn't belong anywhere, didn't truly have a place to call 'home'. Her mother had kicked her out of the house, and now she was staying at the Cave, but she really wasn't one of The Lost Boys (as she found out earlier that that was what the gang called themselves); she was a vampire, but she wasn't one of them. Because being one of them meant being like them, and she couldn't do that.

"You okay now?" asked a voice beside her.

Slightly surprised, Spirit looked over.

"Last night you were kinda." Marko didn't need to finish.

Spirit remembered when she had come to the Cave with Paul; she had been a wreak, confused, upset, in tears, and seriously exhausted. "Did Paul ask you to talk to me?" Spirit asked.

"Well, yeah," Marko replied, "He's worried about you."

"If you're wondering if I'm okay mentally. I'm not sure. So much has happened. I just need some time to think," Spirit said. She had a flashback of the previous night when she... She had to turn away so Marko wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Are you trying to avoid us?" Marko asked.

Spirit closed her eyes; us. "If I were really trying to avoid you guys, do you think I'd still be standing here talking?" Spirit said, it wasn't a complete lie. Her words brought a moment of silence, during which she decided; she was going to ask; "Um, where is Paul?"


	4. Understanding

**Chapter Four: Understanding**

Spirit made her way over to the carousel. She waited for the platform to stop revolving, then she stepped up onto it and began looking for Paul. She found him and he looked relieved to see her.

"Are you okay?" he asked as a bell chimed and the carousel started up again.

Spirit laughed softly, "That's the same thing Marko asked me," she said.

"And what did you say then?" Paul asked.

"I think I'm-no, scratch that, I'm not sure how I feel," Spirit sighed.

"It'll get easier, things will-" Paul started, but Spirit cut him off.

"What'll get easier Paul?" Spirit demanded, jumping forward, "The killing? Knowing I've taken a life? It won't get easier, you know why? Because I'm not-I'm not like you!" She felt close to tears again as she leapt down from the still spinning carousel.

She hadn't even known that anger was inside her, hadn't known she felt that way. Until now. And now she felt mad at herself for yelling at Paul. He was worried about her and certainly hadn't meant to upset her again. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and for a moment she couldn't see where she was going. The redhead crashed smack into some one. She didn't even mumble an apology as she tried to continue on her way. She felt hands on her shoulders, stopping her escape. Surprised, Spirit looked up.

"Hold on, I want to talk to you," David said.

"Not now, David," Spirit said, trying to go around him, but he held her still.

Suddenly, Spirit was angry again. "Let. Me. Go!" she hissed, wrenching herself free so hard and fast her shoulders hurt. Her eyes flashed yellow as she glared at David, who smirked, but didn't stop her as she walked away.

Spirit realized just how hard David had been gripping her shoulders, and if she…hadn't been human, she wouldn't have been able to pull away like she did. Vampire strength. She walked along the Boardwalk, her mind racing. Her anger had faded, and she just felt…confused. Again. Her thoughts were so muddled. But everything had become clear five minutes ago; she wasn't human any more, she was a vampire. But one thing remained unclear…had she accepted that fact? Spirit paused. She leaned on the railing of the Boardwalk and looked down at the beach. Here and there, bonfires dotted the sand, glowing in the night like fireflies.

The waves seemed to be whispering, calling to her. She felt an urge to go to the sea, to walk along its edge in the surf, to loose herself in its calming beauty. No. Wait, she had lost herself before, and she would never-could never-forget the outcome. But none-the-less, she found herself hoping over the railing to land cat-like on the sand below. She walked down the beach, away from the Boardwalk and closer to the surf. The wind sifted through her red hair as she stopped just inches from the gently lapping waves. She stared out at the silvery water, the moon reflecting in her blue eyes. She suddenly became sad; for the longest time, she had wanted to be free, like the stars above.

Now she had that freedom-and more-but nothing came without a price, she knew this now. The price for her freedom and immortality was death. She would have to become a killer…unless she found another way. She began walking along the edge of the surf, passing by a few bonfires. She could...sense, feel even, the teenagers gathered around every bonfire she passed. And she could feel her bloodlust awakening once more. She shuddered slightly in fear. She couldn't let the cravings control her. If she did, she would be no different then David...or the others. So she ignored the craving for blood, however faint it was, and resumed walking. She passed closer to one of the bonfires as she made her way towards the Boardwalk. She glanced over and saw that a group of Surf Nazis surrounded the bonfire. Surf Nazis were a rival gang to The Lost Boys. They sounded like a bunch of idiots.

"Where you going pretty?" a voice behind her asked.

Spirit felt her muscles tense, but she didn't pause or turn around. In other words, she ignored the Surf Nazi who had spoken to her.

"I said, where you going?" the Surf Nazi repeated, grabbing her wrist.

Spirit turned, jerking her wrist free from the Surf Nazi's grip, "Where ever you're not," she replied.

The Surf Nazi didn't seem to hear her, "Why don't you join me and my friends," he said.

Spirit stared at him. "Are you deaf? Or just dumb?" she said, "I don't want anything to do with you!" she turned and began walking again.

The Surf Nazi blinked. He grabbed Spirit's arm, "You can't leave that easy," he said.

Spirit whirled around to face him, wrenching her arm away. "Oh, yeah? Watch me," she hissed, her eyes flashing yellow.

"Whoa, whatever you say," the Surf Nazi muttered, taking a step back in surprise.

As Spirit walked away, she heard the Surf Nazi say; "What a freaky chick."

Spirit went back to the Boardwalk. She headed for the Ferris wheel, avoiding the Boys when she spotted them in the crowd. She took her place at the back of the line for the Ferris wheel, and looked up at it, towering above her. The stars were twinkling brightly as Spirit sat down in an empty compartment. Soon, she left the lights and music behind, far below her. The cool sea breeze played with her hair as the Ferris wheel creaked to a stop, allowing people on and off. Her thoughts drifted to when she had ridden the Ferris wheel with Paul. It seemed like so long ago instead of only a couple of days. That was before she knew. When she was still human.

The Ferris wheel started up again, and she closed her eyes. She felt like she was floating, and with her eyes closed, she could imagine that she was flying-imagining was the closest she'd get to the real thing. Her thoughts turned to Paul and she moaned to herself as she leaned back to look up at the stars. Paul...he was so sweet to her, and she had snapped at him. Just because she had lost control over her temper. She sighed. She shouldn't have yelled at him. It wasn't his fault that she couldn't accept what she was. She should apologize to him. And she would just have to learn to accept some things. After all, the world wasn't always fair.

When Spirit once more set foot on the Boardwalk, she began looking for Paul. She had to find him. She stood on tip-toe to see over the crowd. At first, she didn't see him, then. Her eyes lit up when she saw Paul. Spirit hurried trough the crowd towards him. She caught up to him and fell into step beside him.

"Hi," Spirit said, "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you" She paused, "I've got to accept what I am," she took a deep breath and spoke slowly, "The road ahead won't always be easy, but we can do it. Together."

Paul looked over at her, "Together?" he repeated.

"Together," Spirit confirmed, smiling.

Paul smiled back and Spirit's heart melted. She blushed and looked away for a moment.

"So, what, this makes me the first Lost Girl?" Spirit asked. She responded to Paul's surprised expression with another smile, this one full of hidden meaning.

Spirit looked away and became quiet as she thought. Something occurred to her; did her mother miss her? Probably not. Susan would be glad that Spirit was gone. She fought back tears at the thought; it was terrible to know you wouldn't be missed. If she left town, ran away, no one would care. Wait. Some one would care, and he was standing right next to her. Some one would miss her. But she wasn't going anywhere.

"We're gonna go back to the Cave, you wanna come?" Paul asked.

"Huh?" Spirit blinked, "Oh, sure," she said. She thought a moment more, "Paul, I-" she started, but stopped herself.

"What?" Paul wondered.

"Nothing," Spirit said, shaking her head, "Let's go meet the others." Not now, she would tell him later, when she truly felt ready to admit it.

She was happy; she was away from her mother, she had a new life. Yet she was sad; she was a vampire, and she had killed some one. So she really shouldn't be happy at all. Yet she was. Her inner emotions were mixed; she was sad because of what she was, happy because she was free, and excited because she thought she was…in love. She would just have to learn to deal. But now, she was where she belonged; she was with The Lost Boys. She wasn't alone anymore.

**The End**


End file.
